Saturday, March 31, 2012

SUNDAY, APRIL 01, 2012 The April Heights - Day 1 - #113

Eager to see blooms
I hover around all buds
Fixated on Spring

She blow dries her hair
She changes the bed linen
Eager to see him

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

3 Word Wednesday

As I jostle you
I catch your cool fragrant scent
Remnant to cherish

I jostle with love
and only remnants remain
Fragrant dried roses


Tuesday, March 27, 2012


Crystals on the lake
Nature's way of giving gifts
As winter returns


Monday, March 26, 2012


The pendulum swings
through each day of challenges
Patient endurance

Endure these for life
"chop wood and carry water"
So the ancients say

Our love will endure
we are bound by history
Never forgetting


Saturday, March 24, 2012

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Three Word Wednesday - March 21

3 Word Wednesday

Amateur, Diligent, Nurture

An amateur at love, she seeks for him but falls short of cupid's arrow piercing her heart. Though she forges a diligent quest she somehow fails to nurture the necessary seed. She knows there are tricks, nuances of behaviour, and special words to be used. Perhaps she thinks to much and feels to little. She isn't desperate after all.  She feels that she dare not give up. She must move forward in the hope of future fruition. One day with continued care and due diligence she will find her love.

She nurtures her dream
forges her diligent quest
Amateur at love

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

3 Word Wednesday

Baffle, Elegant, Negate

You are a sweet prince of poetry whose elegant words enchant me. I am drawn into your realm. I come willingly bearing my own small gifts in return for such sweet promises. I am overwhelmed by it all.
Soon though you begin to confuse and baffle me. For the more I draw near to you the further you retreat. Thus you negate the wonder of it all and leave me alone and unconsoled.

To negate our love
You baffle me with silence
No elegant words

Friday, March 9, 2012

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

3 Word Wenesday

You shock me at times
my diviant friend
who walks a minuscule line
between truth and fantasy
like a trapeze artist
balancing yourself all ways.
Working endlessly to avoid
the trivial and mundane.

Cold Frosty Morning

Cold frosty morning
the dog and I are walking
the stream is running

Tuesday, March 6, 2012


I am downsizing
cleaning out an old storage unit
where old memories lie in wait
like ghosts locked in a crypt
Ghosts of my past lives hover
having been loosed by my rummaging
None offer any consolation
for the roads not taken
the houses abandoned
They simply linger beside me
I feel their spidery fingers on my spine
I plead with them to let me carry on
I'm sending them to their final resting place
through the jaws of a paper shredder
set on fine.

Monday, March 5, 2012



To a stranger
she appears lost
seen struggling through
the dense underbrush of
their perceived doubt
she seems confused
out in the open away from
the protection of
supportive friends
she is vulnerable
so they think
but unknown to them she
has a map
her course clearly marked
a crooked line highlighted
with a black pen
her destination marked
with a red star

Sunday, March 4, 2012

With Respect to Old Classics

My friend Striker and I have been discussing that it might be interesting to take old classical poems and see if we can make them new. This will be my first attempt. My criticism of myself would be that I don’t feel my language has the “heart”, but it is my first try.

This is attempted also for Pranali of Blank Verses & Invisible Lines who wrote such a beautiful sonnet in the style of  Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet #28

My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee tonight.

This said—he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand. . . a simple thing,
Yes I wept for it—this . . the paper's light..

Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past.
This said, I am thine—and so its ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast.

And this ... 0 Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!


Ellecee’s 2012 Version

My emails seem all advertising and spam
And then, oh my lord, I see there’s one from you
I’m almost afraid to open it,,,but then I do
I’m so nervous you would think it some exam

You say you want to see me, ask me how I am
Suggest a day next week for our debut
To sit close to me at lunch, some nice venue
I’ve wanted this so much, I pray it’s not a sham

You write, I think I love you, and I feel faint
My heart skips when I think what this could mean
I’ve wanted you so long, I’ve no restraint
How will I last the days that are between?

Your words to me so special, sweet and quaint
Let me pray I can await the day and stay serene.







Friday, March 2, 2012

This Old House as Self Portrait

This old house creaks
under the weight of
her history
Shivers when the winter wind
blows through
her rafters

Sighs on balmy nights when
the light from glistening stars
shines through her skylight
This latest edifice added to
improve her image
a bright halo for a
withering queen
But still and all she
represents something
A remnant from a time
when stability and character
She is looked upon as
an icon representing
better times
She bears a plaque that says
Heritage House
She is not allowed to be

A withering queen
the weight of her history
to be demolished

Thursday, March 1, 2012


The tundra is soft
beneath my feet
I sink into it

I feel old and heavy
full of ancient stories
and antiquated thoughts
of tomorrow's

I walk out
on a fine story line
I wear special shoes
like a trapeze artist

My feet fashion
themselves around
My arms held
straight out
for balance

The sun catches me
by surprise
 I fall into